Cemeteries of London
by sas.90
Summary: London cemeteries - A murderer who makes lonely mourners his victims. Can Booth and Bones solve this case before one of them becomes a victim? -BB, baby!-
1. Chapter 1

I've got a new story here, which came to me when I was listening to this song (Cemeteries of London - Coldplay) now I think it could have the potential of becoming a multi-chaptered story, but I'm not sure. So I'm asking you: **Let me know if I should continue this or not.**

**Thanks:)**

Disclaimer: Don't own Bones

**Cemeteries of London**

_At night they would go walking 'til the breaking of the day,  
The morning is for sleeping… _

The falling footsteps of her dark boots in the gravel echoed across the dark and empty grounds. Somewhere in a tree an owl howled. Once. Twice. Three times. It gave her chills, but she didn't know why. It was only a bird. The sky was especially clear tonight, and upthere, high, high in the dark sky a full round moon could be seen. It cast a silver glow across the cemetery.

Raindrops that lay in the grass were highlighted by it's almost magical glare. Headstones became extra creepy because of the shadows that the planet caused. She was currently walking past the older section of the cemetery. People who had been buried for sometimes over a hundred years.

Temperance Brennan shivered involuntarily – the third time since she'd entered the site – and stuck her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket.

_Through the dark streets they go searching to see God in their own way,  
Save the nighttime for your weeping…  
Your weeping… _

Behind her something moved in the bushes and she stopped momentarily to look over her shoulder. The bushes had already stopped moving, but she still had the feeling that something was off. Something didn't feel right. It had been three days ago since she'd flown to London with Booth to work a case. They'd needed her help and together – and with the help of the London police – they'd succesfully solved the case. The killer had been put away and they were supposed to fly back to Washington tomorrow morning, but another case had turned up unexpectedly and she'd figured, now she was here anyway..

Again she heard something move and again she glanced over her shoulder. This time the bushes did not stop moving and Brennan stopped, her hand resting at her hip to grab her cellphone when needed. The bushes' shaking got more voilent, until something jumped out and raced across the gravel path to the other side. She let out an audible sigh of relief, her breath forming small clouds in the chilly air.

It was just a rodent.

_Singing la lalalalala la lé…  
And the night over London lay… _

She resumed her journey across the path, but soon found that her path was blocked by a massive stone wall, covered in poison ivy and sticky moss. Booth had told her keep following the gravel road, but what if it was blocked? She could harldy climb over the wall. Looking around, the brunette noticed a narrow dirt road leading through each row of headstones. She'd wanted to avoid those, especially at this hour, but now it was her only option. She looked around once more before stepping onto the nearest narrow path. It was just big enough for her two feet to stand together. Slowly she walked between the headstones, now and then reading their inscriptions. After two minutes of walking, she realised -with a shock – that she'd entered the children's part of the cemetery. The graves and the headstones had gotten smaller, and were still growing smaller with every step she took. Ten years old. Eight years old. Temperance swallowed hard and in stead focused her eyes on the path in front of her. Now and then a frog would jump to get away from her feet. A bat missed her head by centimeters. Wasn't it flying just a little bit too low?

_So we rode down to the river where the toiling ghosts spring,  
For their curses to be broken… _

_Vampires don't exist Brennan. _She reminded herself.

_Don't be illogical._

She was spending too much time with Booth. His stories were starting to get to her, even if he was just joking around. Most of the time. A cold wind blew across the cemetery and whipped her hair across her face.

She pushed it behind her ears, annoyed, and dug in her pockets for a hairband. Finding one in the backpocket of her jeans, she took a moment to pull her hair into a bun and then continued walking.

A shadow moved a couple of headstones away and she slowed her pace, narrowing her eyes slightly in an attempt to see what it was. The shadow seemed to shrink and then disappear behind the large headstone. She raised an eyebrow and took out her phone while she stepped closer. Dry leaves rustled under her feet and a twig that broke made her jump slightly, but she kept on walking.

When she was only a couple feet away from the headstone she slowed down her pace even move and she was almost walking on tiptoes.

_We'd go underneath the arches where the witches are in the saying,  
There are ghost towns in the ocean…  
The ocean… _

Suddenly the same shadow she'd seen before grew quickly in front of her. Then, it started to move away from her and it took her only a split second to realise that the shadow was a person. And that he didn't want her to confront him. That was usually bad news.

''Hey! Stop!'' She yelled and her voice echoed across the cemetery in the cold night. She took off, running after the large shadow, trying to avoid stepping on graves as best as she could. Sure she'd worked with the dead for over ten years, but that didn't mean Booth's stories about disturbing the buried remains hadn't gotten to her. If only just a little bit.

She knew better than to march across peoples last resting place in order to catch someone who could possibly have bad intentions. Soon they were running past the edge of the cemetery, where a row of bushes seperated the site from a dark pine tree wood. The shadow jumped across the bushes and she followed suit, her feet never slowing down. She wasn't getting closer, not was she getting behind.

''FBI!'' A branch nicked her cheek and she nearly tripped over the roots of a particularly big pine tree. In the few seconds it cost her to maintain her balance the shadow sped up and moved further away from her. Soon he was out of her sight and she could no longer hear it's footsteps pounding on the ground. Temperance slowed to a stop. Her breathing was heavy and her legs were itchy from the friction between her jeans and her skin. She sighed and placed her hands on her knees, chest heaving. Deep steady breaths.

Suddenly two strong hands closed themselves around her biceps and she spun around, thrusting out her foot and kicking her attacker in the stomach.

_God is in the houses and God is in my head… and all the cemeteries in London…  
I see God come in my garden, but I don't know what he said,  
For my heart it wasn't open…  
Not open…_Special Agent Seeley Booth felt all the air leaving his lungs as he stumbled backwards and tripped over a rock, falling down. He coughed and struggled to breathe and to find his voice.

''Bo.. Jeez.'' She was still standing with her feet slightly apart, fists high to defend herself. When she saw it was her partner's ass she'd just kicked she lowered her hands.

''Booth! Don't sneak up on me like that!'' She walked over to him and held out her hand. He ignored it and got to his feet, wiping the dirt of his suit.

''I heard you yell FBI. I figured you got yourself into trouble.'' He said while he holstered his gun and took a good look at her. Her hair was stuck to her sweaty forehead and her clothes were a mess.

''What happened?''

''Someone was hiding behind a headstone. Ran away when he saw me. Or she. I didn't get a good luck at the person, but judging by the way he was running it was a male.'' She pulled her hairband out of her hair, ran her hand through it a couple of times and then pulled it back into a simple ponytail.

''How many times have I told you not to go chasing after random people in the dark. Especially when you're alone and unarmed.''

''Booth! I can take care of myself.'' His hand had found it's usual spot on the small of her back and they were walking again. She rolled her eyes at the slight pressure he was putting on her back. She knew how to walk.

''I don't want to hear it. You're my responsibility as a liasion of the FBI and if you'd gotten hurt right there Cullen would've suspended me for not looking after you.''

''I don't need - '' He cut her off.

''Yes you do. Now focus on the remains we got for you, okay? We've been waiting for over half an hour and I'm freezing.'' She mumbled something incohorent in protest and then decided to just play along.

It was cold, she was tired, she was hungry and she wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Singing la lalalalala la lé…  
There's no light over London today…


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, so as you can see I decided to carry on with this story. As I live in the Netherlands and not in London, I might not get the entire plan of the city right, because I've never even been there, but hey, it's called fan_fiction_ for a reason right?:D Right.

So I hope you'll like this chapter and thank you so much to the reviewers of chapter 1!

Love,

* * *

**02.**

''Male. Approximately thirty to thirty-five years old. Six foot one to six foot three in height -''

The forensic anthropologist paused her voice recorder and looked up to the agent who was standing at the foot of the grave, hands stuck deep into his pockets. He was shivering and she had to hide a small smile that threatened to cross her features.

''I'll need to make a full set of X-Rays when we get to the morgue tomorrow and I'm going to need these remains shipped to the Jeffersonian after my preliminary exam. Angela will be able to determine the height more accurately with the Angelator.''

A short nod from her partner and he shifted his weight to his other leg. Then, he dug out his cellphone and walked off while he brought the device to his ear. Brennan watched him momentarily before she turned back to the remains on the grave.

A scorched skeleton sat against a fairly new, black, shiny headstone. She could only make out half of the inscription.

_  
'April M.. ..derson. 19-04-1976 - .. -10-2007. Beloved ... wife'_

She breathed an inaudible sigh and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Could this man be the woman's husband? They were about the same age. Maybe it was just a coincidence. She pressed play on her voice recorder and brought it to her lips.

''Blunt force trauma to the head and set on fire.''

She pressed pause again and rummaged through the bag she'd brought with her. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves she scooped up some of the soil next to the remains and examined it closer.

There was absolutely nothing she could tell from it, but Hodgins could.

She shifted and looked up.

''I need an evidence bag! Who's got the evidence bags?''

* * *

Sighing when he leaned back against the wall of the elevator, Booth watched his partner press the button to the thirteenth floor and loosened the tie around his neck. The doors closed and Brennan turned, moving to stand next to him. Dark circles had formed under her eyes and her cheeks well still pink from the cold autumn wind outside. She looked tired, yet satisfied.

She'd had everything under control tonight.

Her control. The remains were being shipped to the Jeffersonian, Booth had stayed out of her way and held back from asking stupid questions or making sarcastic remarks. And even though her entire body was hurting, she knew a large bathtub was waiting in her hotelroom.

''Three in the morning. I have to be up in four hours. Great.'' Booth said quietly, more to himself than to her, while he glanced at the watch around his wrist.

''Better to stay up. If you sleep you'll be even more tired in the morning.'' She told him and couldn't help but smile when he shrugged off his jacket.

''If I don't sleep four coffees won't be enough to make me pay attention.'' He hung the jacket over his arm and rubbed his hands across his face in an attempt to get rid of the sleepy haze that he felt hung around him. It wasn't gonna work. He'd been up since six that morning and just when he was undressed and ready to go to sleep he got the phonecall about the new case.

Brennan wisely decided not to argue and stifled a yawn. She wondered briefly if her minibar had been refilled when the elevator came to a slow stop and it's doors slid open to reveal a large hallway. She followed Booth and they turned left. The sound of the small heels under her boots were muffled by the carpeted floor. Neither of them talked and she could only hear her partner's breathing as they moved to the end of the hall.

Room 235 and 237.

Two-thirty-seven was hers and slightly more luxerious than her partner's.

She unlocked her door and put her hand on the doorknob before she turned to her partner. The top of his shirt was now unbuttoned and he unlocked his own door.

''Night, Booth.'' Her voice seemed to startle him slightly – as if his mind had been somewhere else – and he looked at her flashing a hint of his Charm Smile.

''See you in the lobby at eight?'' He asked and she nodded, then disappeared into her hotel room. Booth sighed and opened the door just as hers closed. Bedtime. Finally. He walked in and shut the door behind him quietly.

The room was dark and chilly.

A curtain moved in the wind and Booth crossed the room to close the window. The moon was still high in the sky and from his window he could see cars moving through the streets of the city. People unknown to the body that had been found hours earlier.

Unknown to the fact that there was yet another killer on the loose.

* * *

The next morning agent Booth woke to a knocking on his door.

''Go away!'' He mumbled into his pillow and rolled onto his side, pulling his blanket over his shoulder and ready to fall back asleep. The knocking continued and grew louder. A woman's voice accompanied the disturbing noise.

One very familiar voice.

''Booth! It's half past eight. Wake up!''

''Five more minutes.'' The man mumbled and pulled his blanket over his head. As a result his feet were exposed to the cold air inside the room and he shivered. Outside his partner never stopped knocking.

''We have to be at Scotland Yard in thirty minutes.'' That did the job. Booth's hand shot out instantly and grabbed a hold of his cellphone on the bedside cabinet. After pulling his phone safely under the warm covers, he flipped it open and glanced at the time. 9.31AM.

''Shit.''

He threw the covers off himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He didn't even bother to stretch before he made his way over to the door and opened it. Temperance Brennan was standing on the other side, fully dressed and ready to go. He, on the other hand, was still topless and his hair was a mess.

''Well that's about time. Hurry. The Scotland Yard building is at least a twenty minute drive and you know what the traffic in London is like at this hour. You've got ten minutes to get dressed.'' She told him and pushed past him into his hotelroom.

In her passing she allowed her eyes the glance briefly at her patner's bare torso.

She turned at the window and folded her arms underneath her breasts, pushing them up slightly and unknowingly offering her partner a better view of her cleavage. He shut the door and mimicked her stance, folding his arms himself.

''What?'' Her question was innocent and she looked genuinely curious. He gave an eyeroll that she could be proud of.

_''_You think I'm gonna get dressed with you standing there? I don't think so.''

''I know. You're going to your bathroom and lock the door and get dressed there.'' She replied calmly as she nodded toward the bathroom door. Booth pressed his lips together and flexed his biceps unconsiouly.

He knew that.

''Well don't just stand there. You've got -'' she glanced briefly at the slim watch around her wrist

''- Eight minutes left.''

Sighing, Booth quickly gathered a clean pair of boxers and the suit that was draped over the chair standing in the corner, before disappearing into the bathroom and locking the door. Brennan watched the tiny display of the lock turn red and shook her head slightly before taking place on his bed. She frowned and stood up, then sat down again and bounced slightly.

A slight smile flickered across her features. Booth would hate to find out that her matress was much softer and more comfortable. She'd offered to book a room for him, but he'd declined, not wanting to take advantage of her status as best-selling author. Men.

''Bones, could you get me a tie? They're in my suitcase.'' She got to her feet when she heard her partner's voice coming from the bathroom and wandered over to his suitcase which was next the wardrobe.

Why didn't he just put his stuff in there? She opened up the suitcase and sifted through some of his clothing.

Socks, many of them. Button-down shirts, T-shirts, Condoms. She paused at those and raised an eyebrow.

Top safe, well at least he was prepared. Finally she found a collection of ties.

''What colour, Booth?'' She looked at some of the ties and smiled. What did Booth say Dr. Wyatt called them again?

Oh right, little rebellions.

''Just the plain black one, please.'' He replied and she heard him stumble around. Glancing at the two ties in her hands, she dropped the black one back into the suitcase and got to her feet. When she knocked on the bathroom door it opened slightly to reveal her partner's bare arm. He snatched the tie from her hand and quickly closed the door.

She shrugged and walked back to the bed.

''Bones, I said black.''

''Well blue goes better with that shirt.''

* * *

Fifteen minutes later they were both seated in the dark green SUV Booth had been using during their stay in London and the windshieldwipers were wiping at full speed to keep the rain off the window. Brennan found herself following them with her eyes while she listened to Booth honking the horn at some red Nissan Note which had nicked their spot in the traffic jam just seconds earlier.

''Come on! You're not in a hurry! I'm FBI get out of the way!'' She looked over at her partner who seemed to get more frustrated by the second. Despite the fact that it was october, Booth's jacket was in the backseat of the car and his cheeks had gone red. Probably from winding himself up so much.

''Booth how could you possibly know that man isn't in a hurry?'' She asked and he glanced over at her, a confused expression on his face at first as if he hadn't heard her, but soon the expression changed to irritated.

''Bones, just.. find something else to do okay? You gonna start saying things like that and I'll snap at you and you'll ignore me for the rest of the day and – hey! What are you honking at me for I can't move forward can I?'' The man was already distracted by the driver in the car behind them and gesturing wildly in his rearview mirror before he could finish his sentence. She sighed and turned on the radio.

Immediately two voices with a heavy british accent floated from the speakers and she listened carefully. Traffic information. Their road was apparently very busy. She looked at the rows and rows of cars in front of them and rolled her eyes.

Obviously.

At exactly five minutes past nine, Booth parked the SUV in an empty spot and jumped out of the car into the rain. Temperance followed suit and made her way to the trunk of the car to find the umbrella she'd put in there a few days before. It was still there and she grabbed it and put it up quickly before the rain could make her wetter. Booth, on the other hand, was busy pulling on his long beige jacket and cursing the weather in England while he shut the doors and locked the car.

He walked over to her and moved take the umbrella, but she held onto it firmly and sent him a dangerous glare.

''I've got it, thanks Booth.''

''Keep it higher, I can't walk like this. I don't want to get wet.''

''You've got a jacket.'' She told him pointedly and moved across the parking lot toward the large black building in front of them. On the front it said 'New Scotland Yard' in pretty silver letters.

''It's not waterproof.'' He was trying hard to keep up with her pace, but due to the fact he had to walk a little hunched over, this wasn't going so easily. And to top it off, he kept stepping into the pools of rainwater that she was avoiding.

''Well then you should've thought about that before you bought the jacket. Come on. We're late.'' She quickened her pace and left her partner standing in the rain. He was staring at her, a look of exasperation on his handsome features.

''We live in _DC_, Bones.'' He said, putting extra emphasis on the city's name.

''It doesn't rain there as much as it does in this stupid country.''

''Booth, come on!''

_**TBC**_


	3. Chapter 3

**03.**

He was still shaking the rain out of his hair when she was already retrieving their visitor's badges. Somewhere between his mumbling about his hair and her telling him to stop complaining, she'd stolen the FBI badge from his belt and left him standing in the large hall, dripping umbrella in hand. The cops walking around didn't seem happy with the fact that the marble floor was getting wet and Booth had already sent several of them an apologetic smile. When had his partner started taking matters into her own hands? He was _still_ he FBI agent, for heaven's sake.

''Here's your badge. When they saw it they told me we can just go to the morgue and that everything is ready for me.'' She handed him back his badge and reached to attach his visitor's pass to his jacket. Moments later she caught him staring at her and she raised an eyebrow.

''What?''

''Okay, Bones. 1. Never touch my FBI Badge again. 2. _I'm_ the one who's FBI here so in stead of saddling me up with a dripping umbrella you'll let me do the talking to these people here and 3. - '' He took the visitor's pass out of her hand and gave her back the umbrella.

''- I can do this myself.'' He attached it to his jacket and watched her do the same. To his surprise she hadn't said anything back, but when he noticed the thin line her lips had formed – making them almost blend with her skin – he realised why. He'd offened her and she was most likely not going to want to talk to him all day.

''Wait, Bones. I'm sorry. Do you want some coffee?'' He offered, but she fixed him with a cold stare before turning around and walking towards the elevators. He rolled his eyes and followed, doing his best not to slip over the trail of raindrops she was leaving with the umbrella.

* * *

She was bend over the steel table carefully, her eyes narrowed to be able to examine the remains more precisely. Her back was aching and her neck felt like it was on fire and she didn't know exactly how long she'd been standing there. Her finger moved over a particularly interesting looking piece of the victim's mandible. It was fractured. She placed the jaw bone back onto the steel able and made notes.

A soft sigh could be heard behind her, but she ignored it. Again she moved her blue eyes from her notes back to the remains. Above her the light twitched from bright yellow to orange and back to yellow. The ventilation hummed softly and she found herself getting lost in the comfortable silence.

Until a metal plate with instruments clattered to the floor. Brennan closed her eyes, irritated, before spinning around and seeing her partner standing on almost tiptoes in a mess of scalpels and tongs.

''Booth.''

''I swear I only leaned against the trolley and it moved.''

''That's because it has wheels. Could you clean that up please?'' She shook her head and placed her hand on her hip while he knelt down and started gathering the tools, careful not to cut himself on a scalpel. Why he'd insisted on waiting for her she didn't know.

Maybe he didn't have anything better to do or maybe he was worried because the morgue of NSY was so deep under the ground and barely anyone went there. But he was annoying her, that was for sure and this way she wasn't going to get any work done. In the past hour alone he'd been constantly shifting his weight, drumming his fingers on top of a surface, asking her the names of different types of bones...

Booth placed all instruments back onto the metal and set it on the trolley, careful not to push against it again.

''Don't you have anything better to do?'' She'd turned back to her remains and had asked the question without so much as looking up. He slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

''I guess so but we're a team.''

''Yeah. And right now I think it's better if we split up. You go do your investigating things and getting leads while I try to finish this exam so I can send the remains to the Jeffersonian.''

''If you promise to meet me at the parking lot at five thirty.'' Finally. He was giving in. She placed her gloved hands on the edges of the examination table and fixed him with a cold glare. He kept eyecontact, his own glare decidedly more friendly than hers. Eventually that playful spark in her eyes showed up.

''Fine, but you'll have to leave the umbrella here.''

''Fine.''

* * *

A light rain was falling when Booth ascended the steps to an old, but beautiful looking mansion. The panelled walls carried large windows, but even though they were large, old beige curtains prevented passerby's from looking in. Before Booth raised his fist to knock, he shook the raindrops from his short cropped hair and brushed the dirt from under his shoes on the worn doormat. The firm knocks that fell from his fist onto the hard wood produced an echoing sound, giving the agent the impression that the house was empty.

Not only did all lights seem turned off, but front yard was a mess when he'd passed through it and now he was paying more attention, the windows were particularly dirty.

So either somebody hadn't lived in the house for a very long time or these people were really dirty. After waiting for a while, he knocked again, this time identifying himself and asking someone to open the door. He may as well have talked to the walls, because he got no response this time either.

The light rain that had been falling became heavier and Booth looked up to see that they sky was quickly turning a dark gray. He glanced again at the note in his hand, which clearly stated that he was at the right address. He shook his head and dug his cellphone out of his pocket before turning around and walking down the steps back into the rain. Cursing at the rain again he did his best not to slip on the wet patches of dirt and barked his last name into the phone when someone finally answered.

''Yeah, it's Booth. The house is empty, like someone hasn't lived here for a long time, are you sure this was where Mr. and Mrs. Anderson lived?'' Increasing his speed to get to the car sooner, he listened to the voice on the other end. It informed him that it was definitely the right address.

''Well then I'll get Bones – I mean – Dr. Brennan to send the remains to the Jeffersonian as soon as possible. I've got a feeling it's Mrs. Anderson's husband that was murdered.'' The agent opened the door of the SUV and took place in the driver's seat, quickly shutting the door and effectively stopping the cold wind from blowing in.

''Thanks.'' He flipped his phone shut and searched his pockets for the carkeys. Outside the wind started howling harder and the trees shook precariously in the force of it. Right now he wanted nothing more than to get this case solved as quickly as possible, so that they could go back to the slightly warmer and less rainy DC. Finally he found the keys and started the car.

The heating immediately started blowing, although it took a good couple of minutes before the engine was warmed up and the air that was blowing into the interior of the car was getting warmer too. Rubbing his hands together, Booth buckled up and turned onto the street, never noticing the curtain that moved downstairs behind the window.

* * *

''Bones! It's five-fifty! What took you so long?'' The shivering agent said as his partner finally climbed into the SUV, after putting her umbrella safely in the trunk of the car.

''Precision takes time, Booth, but I was able to complete my exam. The remains are being shipped to the Jeffersonian as we speak. Did you find anything new?''

''Only that the house of the woman under the headstone was empty. Didn't seem as if anyone had been there in a while and I'm starting to suspect that it was her husband who we found. You think that's possible?'' He glanced over at his partner who shrugged her shoulders and checked her hair in the mirror.

''There's a chance it's her husband. Like Mr. Anderson the victim is caucasian and their heights match as do their general physique. But I can't jump to any conclusions, you should know that by now.'' Her voice turned from business to stern when she finished her sentence and Booth rolled his eyes, mocking her.

''I didn't _ask_ you to jump to conclusions. I merely asked you if it could be possible. Anyway, know any good places for dinner? I think we should go to that little restaurant that we found last week.'' Her partner let out a sigh of relief as he started the engine and the heating started working again. He'd purposely turned the car off while waiting for her. He didn't want the battery to die. Brennan shook her head in protest.

''That place did not have good vegetarian meals.''

''I thought you liked the salad! You said you liked it.'' Booth protested in his turn as he left Scotland Yard's parking lot and steered the vehicle onto a more busy road.

''That's because the waitress was standing next to you talking to you.'' She didn't bother reminding him that the waitress was trying to get his number. It would bring out that annoying smug smile on his face. And the last thing she wanted was for his ego to grow even bigger than it already was.

''That's lying, Bones. I thought you didn't do that.'' He grinned at her and she looked away before replying and looking at him again.

''It wasn't a lie per say. I was just being polite.''

''Whatever, Bones. Do you have a better suggestion?''

''Yeah, that organic - '' Booth cut her off and brought the car to a stop in front of a red traffic light.

''No.''

''Booth.''

''No. You know I hate organic food and don't you dare start talking about my penis shrinking again or I'll let you out of the car right here and take your umbrella with me. We'll just go to the hotel and order chinese.''

''Okay.'' Booth raised an eyebrow and glanced at his partner who was having trouble to hide her smile. He noticed, but before he could say anything about it the car behind them honked, letting Booth know that the light had turned green.

''You're mean.'' He told her as he pushed his foot down on the accelarator and drove back to their hotel.

_**TBC.**_

* * *

Aaaaaaaaaand review!


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